


The Case of the Jellyfish

by BarPurple



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Drugged!Mycroft, Fluff, Hallucinations, Kidnapping aftermath, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-23
Updated: 2018-02-23
Packaged: 2019-03-22 23:15:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13774668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BarPurple/pseuds/BarPurple
Summary: Letting himself get kidnapped was the best way to gather the intelligence he required. Being drugged hadn’t been a part of the plan, but in this as with everything else the kidnappers were inept.





	The Case of the Jellyfish

Mycroft found himself very annoyed with the deceptive snow beneath his back. It was trying to make out that it was warm and cosy, but it was snow so obviously it was cold and wet. Stupid lying snow trying to confuddle him further. It was clearly in collusion with the jellyfish in the air that were stopping him from getting up with their pretty light pulse dances. The jellyfish were very pretty, but shouldn’t they be in water? Didn’t jellyfish need water? He’d have to ask Anthea about air jellyfish and why he’d not had a memo that this new species had moved into Scotland. It was very remiss of her not to have told him about them, and how could David Attenborough not have made a documentary already? He would have to look in to the funding for BBC Bristol, it was lacking if they’d not been able to get a camera crew up here for this natural wonder.

Wait. Hang on a moment.

Air jellyfish weren’t a thing, he knew that.

Oh, good lord, he was hallucinating. Rather impressively. Why was he hallucinating?

Oh, that would be the drugs the kidnappers had injected him with. He waggled a finger at the jellyfish; “See this is why you have to employ a real chemist to make your truth serum. Get a goldfish to do it and you end up with a giggling mess who won’t tell you anything of use. Not that I would have told them anything anyway. I mean, please, I’m a Holmes, disseminating is what I do.”

The jellyfish pulsed an urgent red. The bright colour sent a shiver through Mycroft.

“Ah, good point. I need to move, but not too far. I suspect that rescue will be imminent, but I don’t want to freeze before they get here.”

The jellyfish helped him to his feet and swam away so he could assess his surroundings. A graveyard. Okay possibly poetic, but he’d be thrice damned if he’d give his kidnappers the satisfaction of dying here. He glared unblinking at an angel statue. Did he need to worry about Weeping Angels? Probably not, the jellyfish would observe them, so he could blink and find shelter. Best to head toward the biggest feature, which was a mausoleum that the Addams family would favour. Interesting, the drugs had apparently unlocked his pop culture vault. Damn, he should be at a pub quiz, he’d rock it out. Good heavens, he had never thought that phrase in his life.

“You won’t tell on me, will you?”

The jellyfish shimmered through reassuring earth tones.

“Thank you, I appreciate your discretion.”

As he staggered through the snow toward the shelter offered by the tomb, he was drafting legislation to protect jellyfish, both on air and in the sea; it was overdue. They were wonderful creatures and needed looking after.

 

“I told you he’d head toward the biggest landmark.”

“Yes, thank you Sherlock. We believed you that’s why we’re here.”

The jellyfish dispersed as Mycroft was wrapped in a crinkly foil blanket. He mourned their loss but was grateful for the strong arms that were hugging him tight into a wealth of body heat.

“Mycroft. Mycroft? Can you look at me please?”

It took him a very long moment to focus on the cute rainbow voice in front of him.

“Hello Molly! How are you?”

“I’m great Mycroft. I need to do some tests, you okay with that?”

He glared at her; “You’re a pathologist. Am I dead?”

“No, no, no you’re alive and kicking Mycroft. Would you rather John checked you out?”

A soft rumbling voice whispered in his ear; “Whatever you want Myc. Just John is busy dealing with Sherlock and Molly is right here. Let her check you out, please, for me?”

The jellyfish that had followed him into the ambulance changed to soft shimmers of silver. Mycroft sighed happily; “I defer to your best judgement, Gregory.”

The cute rainbow of Molly took his vitals and slipped an IV into the back of his hand.

“Hold him tight, Greg, we need to warn him up. You are going to be fine Mycroft. We are going to flush out what they injected you with.”

“It was very shiny. All glittery and sparkles.”

“Am I like this when I’m high?”

“A bit, but you’re more of an arse, Sherlock.”

Mycroft giggled at the squids that were arguing. One was wearing a coat like Sherlock’s and the other was wrapped up in a jumper like John. They were very funny, but so frowny.

“Why are you two frowning at me so much?”

The squid version of his little brother rolled his many eyes; “Because you are high as a kite, brother mine. I actually feel the need to apologise for the many times you have hauled me out of the gutter.”

The silver fox behind Mycroft snapped his fingers; “Right, everyone give your phones to Molly. Now.”

“Are you assuming that I won’t steal a phone from Molly in order to get video evidence of my brother high as a kite?”

“Yup. Because she will slap the hell out of you Sherlock.”

The jellyfish twinkled gold as Mycroft laughed; “Oh brother mine, you are rightly scared of Doctor Molly. She’ll slap you seven ways from Sunday and so will all the jellyfish,” – he snuggled against the warm body behind him, - “Gregory and I don’t enjoy such activities in our sexy times, but each to their own.”

John chocked on his tentacles; “Far too much information.”

Sherlock rolled his eyes right out of his head and on to the floor of the ambulance; “Brother mine you are off your tits right now.”

Mycroft kicked a toe at Sherlock’s eyeballs, they danced back up into his brother’s head and span around in funny circles.

“Yup. Totally tripping balls, little bro. It’s not as fun as you make it out to be.”

Gregory’s chuckle rumbled through him; “Now, there’s a phrase I never thought I’d hear you say, Myc.”

“Never thought I’d discuss our sex life in front of my little brother, clearly today is a very strange day.”

Mycroft let the rocking of the ambulance sooth him into a doze. One by one the jellyfish flickered and vanished. He must be sobering up. He’d probably be embarrassed by all of this later, then again on Sherlock’s scale of mortifying moments this barely ranked a three. Now he was thinking more clearly, he was actually more worried about facing Anthea’s ire, she would not be happy that he’d let himself get kidnapped. He groaned, that could wait until he was feeling more human.

“Will you protect me from Anthea Gregory?”

A gentle kiss brushed his forehead; “Of course I will, love.”


End file.
